The Look of Love ★
author’s note: i've challenged myself to actually publish something for once so here's the first chapter of a little high school musical fanfic. the full fic will be posted on wattpad and eventually (probably) on ao3 aswell! @/ashiioi for both <3
pairings: sharpay evans x fem!oc wc: 1362
Alarms exist to be a reminder, set at a specific time to blare its song. Junia would like to know who made the decision to make the snooze button the most tempting and easiest to push.
Frankly, she should know that giving into temptation never ends well.
Leaping down the porch stairs into New Mexico’s bright morning sun had Junia cursing at Albuquerque’s deceiving weather; winter air nipping at her nose. Junia slung her faded navy bag over one shoulder and held a thin notebook between clenched teeth. She dropped her worn skateboard and smoothly skated off, black hair pushed back by the wind.
The towering building of East High was hard to miss, large red and white banners stood out against the desert sky.
Busting through the school's doors, Junia didn’t stop her momentum while gliding around the nearly empty halls. Pressed for time, she turned a blind corner, not expecting the ‘it girl’ of East High to be there.
Sharpay yelped when she fell to the ground with Junia’s things. “Woah! Sorry, Sharpay!” Catching herself, she offered a hand to the blonde. Sharpay scoffed and sat appalled in her matching pink tweed blazer and skirt.
From the tile floor, Sharpay saw many things: Junia’s scuffed sneakers, the stickers on her skateboard, and the open journal filled with inscriptions in her reach. Ever nosy, she takes a peek.
“Hey, wait!” With wide eyes, Junia tried to swipe the journal out of her hands, but she was elusive as she rose. Blurbs, poems, and lyrics filled the pages, as well as… scripts?
Sharpay gasped, “You write plays?” Her brown eyes scanned through her scribbles. “You write a lot.”
As a kid Junia was taught to always be truthful; lying could hurt others. She wasn’t taught, however, what to do when your deepest secrets were on blast.
“Nope.” Junia snagged her red journal back and held it with a tighter grip. “Quite the opposite.” She puts unnecessary textbooks into her locker trying to avoid Sharpay’s skeptical stare.
“Did you hit your head?” She tilted her head. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
An abrasive ring of the school’s bell made both girls jump before either could get out another word. Another alarm, a reminder of where one should be. Then, the realization hit — they were late.
“Oh, great!” Sharpay acted first, turning on a dime. “You distracted me!”
Junia closed her locker and followed the blonde, “How was I meant to know you’d be there?”
Like cicadas, they went back and forth bickering up the stairs, Junia skipping over two rows as Sharpay scampered up each step in her strapped heels. She reached her homeroom class first. Preparing to deliver a speech she’s recited before, she took a deep breath and opened the door with her skateboard in hand.
One step forward and Junia was convinced she was invisible to the naked eye. Of course, until she wasn’t.
“Late and disrupting the halls once again.” Ms. Darbus stood front and center with a dreaded bucket in her hands. “Detention for you, Ms. Okada.”
Junia sighed in defeat as Ms. Darbus and her bucket approached. Knowing the script, she threw in her silver and orange phone amongst the rest. Behind her, Sharpay smirked. “Hmph. Serve’s you right.”
With her head held high, she marched past, yet didn’t even reach her seat before Ms. Darbus spoke again, “Don’t think your tardiness will be excused either, Sharpay. Detention.”
Sharpay’s jaw dropped at her sentencing; never before had she been deemed eligible for the school's version of imprisonment. The staff were never bold enough.
Junia appeared over Sharpay’s shoulder with a sneer, “You were saying?”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The skater kid in detention? How cliché.
And not how Junia wanted to spend her afternoon.
Especially with Sharpay’s stare that burned like a thousand suns into her side. In an attempt to distract herself from pressing eyes – and Ms. Darbus’ dramatic speech, she continued to paint a ladder with languid strokes.
Dipping a thick paintbrush into straw colored paint, Junia jumped at Sharpay’s presence beside her, more paint splattering onto her cargos. No sense of personal space for anybody but herself, Junia could see the few freckles speckled across her nose.
“Why are you writing shows?” Sharpay interrogates with a head tilt, crouched next to Junia who felt heat rise to her sandy cheeks.
“Your accusation is foolish. In what world is that something I would do?” Junia shrugs and rolls the sleeves of her graphic shirt further up her arms. Her hope was to deny the truth for as long as possible until Sharpay grew tired of meddling.
“This one!” Sharpay exclaimed.
On the other side of the wooden ladder stood Ryan, aiding in the props paint job. “I didn’t even know the skater kids knew how to write full sentences.” He chimed in with a puzzled expression.
Junia looked at Ryan with jaded eyes, “Thanks.”
Her dry tone didn’t reach his ears, “You’re welcome!”
“Exactly.” Sharpay stood tall with arms crossed. “You’re one step away from sounding like Darbus.”
“That’s hurtful.” Junia scrunched her nose at the thought. Dark brown eyes traced Sharpay’s pink figure as she circled the ladder, heels rhythmically clacking against the stage. The paintbrush submerged in paint long forgotten.
“I know what I saw. Your writings are… suitable.” The compliment was forced but said nonetheless. “How come I’ve never read them before?”
Any denial left on her tongue became null as Junia took in Sharpay’s pouty face framed with honey hair accentuating her big round eyes.
Why is Junia’s heart beating faster?
She’d been made, falling victim to Sharpay’s remarkable persuasions. With sagging shoulders, she sighed, “You have.”
Her admission stopped Sharpay in her tracks as she knelt through the ladders underside with a beaming look, “Spill!” Her shout garnered the attention of the other students who were nabbed for their crimes. Junia became wary of the stares thrown their way, “Keep it down, this isn’t a proclamation.”
Sharpay thwarted their eyes with a glare.
“This year’s winter musical, ‘Twinkle Towne’ – that I did not name, in truth,” Junia fiddled with her hands in her lap, scratching off dried paint. “Ms. Darbus wrote the story, but she took heavy inspiration from something I wrote for an English assignment.”
The story of two people who come from different walks of life with dreams of doing— being something more. And they do. Together.
Junia wasn’t sure how Ms. Darbus knew of her work; her English teacher, perhaps? Regardless, she was stunned when Ms. Darbus asked for the authorization to write a show based on her story. And was positively convinced this secret of hers would never see the light of day.
Sharpay stood satisfied. Who knew such a mirage was her locker neighbor all along. “You’re much more interesting than I thought you’d be.” Sharpay looked down at Junia with a smirk.
“You’re as intrusive as you look.” Junia grumbled.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Junia’s mother is strong, unmoving in her beliefs and surprisingly durable despite her short stature. She’s honest, never hesitant about telling it how it is and she’s caring in a way that is sensible to her. She is also intensely stern; Junia knew that all too well.
“Detention, again?” Wiping her hands on her loose basil apron, preparing to cook dinner for two, she turned to her daughter who had just walked through the door.
“Undeserved, really,” Junia shrunk a little at her mother’s look of disbelief. “I mean, I hadn’t even spoken yet.”
So what, if Junia was two minutes late? In Junia’s opinion, Ms. Darbus always had a quick trigger finger, handing out detention slips like they were Halloween candy.
Her mother shook her head, “You need to think about how this will affect your future. More studying and less… this.” She gestured to the skateboard in Junia’s hand.
Her words stung like rubbing alcohol on an open wound. When she found out she was going to bring a child into this world she was probably imagining they would be a doctor or some kind of rocket scientist.
Not just some girl.
But it’s her future, isn’t it?